


Salt Clogged Feathers

by TheTrillion



Series: War Criminals(dance with Icarus) [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: -Ish, Al never loses his body, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Attempt at Humor, But only a bit, Chimera Edward Elric, Colonel Edward Elric, Crazy Edward Elric, ED - Freeform, Ed Al and Winry are siblings, Ed doesn't hate him as much as in the anime, Ed goes to war, Edward Elric Swears, Gen, Hoho is mysteriously absent, Hughes dies but then he doesn't, Hurt/Comfort, I hurt them all a lot, I thought you were stealing the Colonel's house, I'm just gonna stop now, I'm so sorry about this mess, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Ishbalan | Ishvalan Alphonse Elric, Ishbalan | Ishvalan Edward Elric, Ishval Civil War, It doesn't make any sense, It's the middle of the night, Maes Hughes Lives, Might Fix it Up Later, Multi, Nina Tucker Lives, POC Elrics, Professor Edward Elric, Resembool gets burned down I'm sorry, Riza Hawkeye voice:, Roy doesn't do it though, Student Alphonse Elric, Surgeon Winry Rockbell, Winry's a genius too guys, Xerxes is a desert city why are they white, and a bit of devil symbolism, and doesn't really affect much, and fluff, because I don't have the heart to kill him, befriending Ed means losing all your rights to personal space, but I don't leave them only hurt, but I'm terrible at it, but he resigns, but it's not really a focus, but seriously, cause Al and Winry might be dead if he was there, gods this is a mess, going to war at thirteen is not good for ones mental health, he thinks hoho hates him, if one squints, it's in one scene, it's not mentioned, lots of angel symbolism, might elaborate on that in a later thing, oh god I don't know how to tag, stop stealing my bread Ed, take care of yourselves, there's elements of it, they're in the middle of the desert, this is going to be a mess I'm so sorry, what the fuck are you doing in my house, where Ed's getting his automail checked up, why are the xerxians white, why are you here, you're gonna have to pry lesbian Winry from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 06:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20484521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTrillion/pseuds/TheTrillion
Summary: Edward is Icarus, Winry knows, is the boy with wax wings who never heeded others warnings. He flew too close to the sea and salt clogged his feathers. He flew too low and crashed into the icy, unforgiving waves.He’s Icarus, yes, but he’s survived. Her brother is strong.They all survived. A fire brought them down but it also is their new beginning.He is Icarus, he fell, but he got up, spit the blood out of his mouth, and kept going.One foot after another.They heal.Or: If three children are born just a bit earlier, a few towns are burned down, and Hohenhiem never shows up





	Salt Clogged Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> This,,,, is such a mess,,, I'm so sorry,,,,
> 
> first fic I'm posting on this, probably not my last. most likely not my last.
> 
> I'm so sorry for the tags, tell me if you guys want me to clean those up a bit
> 
> Again: there is mention of self harm in this. it's only in one scene but it is there. if you still want to read this but don't want to read that, skip from when all of when Winry's checking Ed's automail. that's the only part that should have it. Don't read it if it's triggering, stay safe
> 
> this is inspired by a shitton of other fics so,, yeah,, sorry if It got too similiar I tried not to let it
> 
> if anyone catches any mistakes please tell me,,, also if the ratings correct??? idk

Winry Rockbell is eleven years old when Resembool is burned to the ground.

* * *

She doesn’t remember running, doesn’t remember charging towards the smoking, half gone door to her home. Doesn’t quite register her body moving as her mind chants _ no, no, no god no not this, please, not this, don’t be dead don’t be dead don’t be dead. _

What she does remember is Edward- at least she thinks it’s Edward- yanking her away. She remembers the pain in her arm, burned skin a burst of agony and she trembled. Remembers screaming _ “Granny!” _over and over and over again, remembers screaming herself hoarse, throat aching but never stopping.

“Stay here,” Ed tells her, voice only shaking a little, before he goes sprinting into the still burning house. 

Al shouts after him, a sharp _ “Brother!” _ but doesn’t follow. He’s crying, so is Winry- tears mixing with snot and ash as she continues to scream herself hoarse. Still, he hugs her tight, tries to hush her, tries to calm her down, and it works- somewhat. She stops screaming, breaking down into heaving, gut-wrenching sobs instead.

Her and Al stay like that for what feels like hours, both sobbing, both shaking, until finally, _ finally, _Edward comes stumbling back out of the house, his clothes looking charred and his entire body trembling, limping.

He smells like burnt flesh.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, and Winry goes cold all over, breath freezing in her chest.

He’s careful when he hands her the rings, the charred remains of Den’s collar. Careful, even as he trembles, to curl her fingers around the still warm, partially melted metals.

Careful as he gives her the only pieces of her parents Granny had always had on her.

(In the back of her mind she’d known, had known the moment the conductor had tried to stop them from getting off the train, had known the moment the smell of ash and burning wood- a smell that had always been _ home, _had always been campfires with her family, always been bonfires with the rest of the townsfolk- had invaded her nose.

She had known that she wouldn’t find anyone alive, had known in the way her chest _ ached _ and felt so terribly _ wrong. _

Winry had known, but that didn’t make it anymore gut-wrenching to get confirmation of it.)

Winry _ screamed. _

* * *

It’s Spring- it was _ raining- _ Resembool was _ soaked. _No fire should have happened.

It wasn’t an accident. 

* * *

“We’ll get them back,” Ed’s voice was a snarl, fierce and angry and bordering on broken when he spoke, eyes dark as he glared down at the floor. His arms tightened around Winry, and Al pressed a little more firmly against her other side when his brother spoke.

The three sat huddled on one of the beds in the room Ed and Al had been sharing while they stayed with their teacher, Izumi and Sig having found them hours after all the fire still burning in Resembool had long died. They hadn’t moved from the spot in front of the charred remains of Winry’s home when the two found them. The adults had silently led them to the train back to Dublith before urging the three to go to sleep when they got to the shop.

Needless to say, none of them felt much like sleeping.

_ “How?” _ Winry managed to choke out, voice rough and raspy from screaming so much. She shook her head and caught Ed and Al sharing a look over her head. “ _ How?” _she repeated.

“Alchemy,” Alphonse’s voice was softer than his brother but there was still that fierce, determined edge to it. “Human transmutation. Brother and I… we were planning on doing it before, anyway. To bring back mom.”

His voice cracked a little, but Winry ignored it, mind latching onto the hope that maybe, _ maybe… _

She’d already lost her parents, a couple years back, when the war between Amestris and Ishval had just started. She had no one else- Granny had been her last family.

“I’ll help you.”

She’d do anything to have her family back.

* * *

Of course, like with all things relating to them, god tears them down.

* * *

Winry helps them as much as she can, reads through medical book upon medical book, devours any and all things relating to human anatomy, helps the boys know everything there is to know about the human body so that when the day comes the boys can bring back Auntie Trisha and Granny sickness and injury free.

(She’s not an alchemy genius like the boys but she _ is _a genius in her own right. When it came to mechanics and anything medical Winry was in her element.)

The day can’t come fast enough.

* * *

Edward and Alphonse were _ screaming. _

Winry was choking on the energy in the air, the glow from the transmutation circle a sickly purple that left her wanting to _ heave _ as _ her boys _were torn apart in front of her.

Winry cried out, trying to reach for them, tried to drag the two away from that awful _ eye _ and those _ hands. _ Cried out as the two were pulled apart strip by strip, until there was nothing left but their _ screams _echoing in her head.

She grasped at empty air.

Ed came back moments later, too fast gone and back for her to really process it.

Al doesn’t come back. 

Before she can say anything, choke anything out beyond her tears and terror, Ed slapped a trembling hand to her face, covering her eyes. He’s trembling, ragged, wretched sobs without tears tearing their way out of his throat even as he speaks.

_ Don’t look, _ he tells her, almost lost to the roaring in her ears and their cries. _ Keep your eyes closed, please Winry don’t look, I’m going to get Al back- I won’t let them take him! Trust me! Don’t open your eyes! _

He’s begging, voice a reck as his hand finally leaves her face. She keeps her eyes closed, her terror rising to a new level. Edward Elric doesn’t _ beg, _ she’s never heard him beg and it’s almost scarier than watching her boys being torn apart.

There’s a choked gurgle, an exhale, something _ snapping, _ ** _splashing_ ** _ , _barely audible to her ears as Ed screams and shouts words she can’t make out before everything goes silent for another beat, two beats. And then there’s gasps and Ed’s choking and sobbing without tears again, trying to muffle himself and failing.

The air reeks of _ blood. _ It’s heavy enough that she can taste it, settling at the base of her throat and making her gag. Her eyes snapped open, because that’s _ too much _ and gods _ Ed’s arm and leg _ and she stumbles up, forces herself to ignore the churning in her gut and instead hastily starts tearing apart Al’s shirt. Winry’s eyes flicker to the naked boy when the thought hits her, relief nearly making her dizzy as she sees that Al’s _ whole _ and not bleeding _ everywhere _ like Edward.

She wraps Ed’s wounds as quickly and tightly as possible, trying to stop the blood flow as best she could, trying to make sure he didn’t bleed out.

She finishes quickly, the shirt not nearly enough, and instead snatches the knife they all had used to nick their fingers to cut Al’s pants into strips too, because Ed’s losing _ too much _ and Winry doesn’t know if anyone’s coming- they’d told no one what they were doing before stealing a boat and rowing out to that island the boys had spent a month on. It could be days before someone found them and Winry knew Ed wouldn’t survive.

Nothing was sterile. There was too much blood. 

(Her chest felt tight, felt cold. She sat back when she was done and blanked out. Ed’s blood coated her hands and she felt so _ so _cold.)

* * *

They’re lucky, in the end. No one dies. Izumi and Sig find them some time later- Winry doesn’t know how long, doesn’t know how they found them, doesn’t really care. 

Izumi looks _ horrified _ and _ scared _ and Winry feels vaguely terrible for putting that look on her face, feels horrible in a floaty, not there kind of way that she helped cause that. 

She looks like she’s aged twenty, thirty years in the span of moments when she finds them.

Winry doesn’t know how they get back- all she knows next is being back at the shop and hearing the words _ clean amputation _ and _ severe blood loss _ and _ infection, _ before blanking again.

She finally gets her senses unscrambled long after the doctor that the Curtises called left, long after Ed’s finally stabilized and no longer at risk of dying.

She's exhausted, wrung out, and all she can do is stumble into the room they’d put Edward in and curl up in a chair and pass out.

* * *

You can’t bring the dead back to life. They know that now.

* * *

Winry makes Ed automail, starts on it the moment she wakes up feeling mostly there. The Curtises don’t mention what they did, but Winry can tell they will so she throws herself into her blueprints and buys the parts and drowns herself in the work.

Research, research, research. She’ll make the prosthetics perfect.

Ed doesn’t speak much, other than when he’s delirious and crying out. He nods, though, when she tells him she’ll make him the best prosthetics in history. Nods as he looks at Al, still unconscious.

There’s a fire in his eyes, so even though he doesn’t speak very often she’s not worried.

* * *

The doctor clears and starts to prepare Ed for the automail surgery, starts to prep for the ports installation.

All they’re waiting on is for Alphonse to wake up.

* * *

Al doesn’t wake up.

* * *

They install the ports, Izumi’s doctor friend performing the surgery. They can’t put Ed under, can’t risk the nerves not responding or connecting right.

(Automail surgery would cut through any anesthesia anyway, Winry knows. She found that out in her research. Even if they did put him under that pain would cut through it quickly.

It doesn’t make her feel better when they have to tie Ed down in case he starts trying to fight back when he's gone to the pain.)

Winry helps restrain Edward during the surgery, keeps him even more still than the other restraints can. 

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get his screams out of her head.

* * *

Ed passes out the first time they attach his automail to the ports.

He’s unconscious for the rest of the day.

(The doctor tells her it’s normal- expected. Tells her he’d have been more worried if Ed _ didn’t _ pass out. 

It does nothing to ease her guilt.)

* * *

Izumi lectures them, grounds them and puts them on lockdown. Her health takes a nosedive, all the stress on her body too much.

Ed looks like he’s breaking all over, watching another parent in his life get sick, watching another mother dying. It’s fractures along the pristine mask he’d put on when he was six and the oldest in a house too big for two little kids. Cracks in the mask he’d placed on his face once he’d decided he’d do anything to keep Al safe and happy.

He throws himself into recovery while they’re stuck at home, Izumi too paranoid_ (worried) _to leave them alone for long. Throws himself into school and alchemical theories again- learning everything there is to know, all the darkest parts of alchemy and all the good.

He doesn’t touch human transmutation again.

* * *

Winry sleeps next to him every night, neither able nor willing to sleep alone. They perfect the art of dealing with nightmares, learn how to walk and talk and see while one or both of them is trembling and raw, barely healed wounds torn open again. She learns that Edward is silent when his demons have him, is still and pale when the monsters that lap at his heels snap their teeth into his mind.

She learns how to deal with her memories, her price. She tries to help Ed deal, too.

* * *

Alphonse comes to in bits and pieces, not all there more often than not. He’s awake, he’s breathing, but he’s blank-eyed more days than not.

He’s never all there, he’s always confused, but his eyes are open and sometimes- _ sometimes- _ Winry spots him watching her or Ed or one of the Curtises or all of them and his eyes look almost _ warm. _

It’s not much, but it’s _ something, _ and it gives her hope.

* * *

It’s sometime just past four in the morning when Winry slips into the study room, plopping down next Edward on the puffy loveseat and handing him a cup of hot chocolate as she nurses her own, the heat soothing any nerves at having woken up alone.

Ed’s rigid next to her, eyes flickering with the long familiar burn of self loathing and guilt. She lets herself settle, gives the illusion of waiting for him to speak even though they both know that on mornings like these Ed can go days afterward without making a single sound.

She doesn’t heave a sigh when the silence drags on too long, though she wants to, and instead asks a question that had been nagging at her ever since _ that night. _ She probably shouldn’t- should instead try and get his thoughts away from it- but.

She wonders.

“You and Izumi mentioned prices, tolls for human transmutation,” she swallows thickly, is half tempted to throw up what hot chocolate she’s already drank as she remembers that particular conversation. Most of the alchemy mumbo jumbo had gone over her head but what she’d understood was _ horrifying. _ “Said that’s why she’s sick and why Al’s as he is.”

Edward doesn’t react to her words other than a curt nod, so she pushes onward.

“Your arm and your leg- those were your tolls, right? Your leg for the initial transmutation and your arm for Al?” Ed flinches just a little- she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t been watching him so closely- and she feels a dark well up of guilt, almost backtracks, but in the end she just worries at her lip with her teeth and doesn’t retract the question. Just waits for the answer.

Ed takes a few minutes, looks like he’s rolling the words around his head, like he’s thinking of what or how much to say. Winry can’t keep the little bubble of dread from poisoning the guilt. She can’t pinpoint why.

In the end, his answer is simple. 

“Yeah. That was my toll.”

She wants to melt with relief- almost does- but.

But. 

She’s spent a long time around the Elrics, has known them for almost the entirety of her life. They’re practically family, siblings in everything but blood. She’s long learned how to read them, how to tell what they’re feeling even when they try their hardest to hide it. Has long learned to tell when one of them is lying- they’re not very good at it.

And Ed-

Ed just _ lied. _

* * *

Winry wonders, sometimes. The question doesn’t leave her.

Ed paid for Al in the form of his arm, gave it up to have his brother back from whatever had taken him.

One of the biggest rules of alchemy Winry had ever heard is the law of Equivalent exchange. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost.

How is Ed’s arm worth Alphonse’s whole body?

* * *

She tells herself she’ll ask again later, when he’s in a better mindset. Tells herself bring the topic up when Edward’s more- alive.

She hesitates, though. Pauses right before the words leave her lips.

Maybe she read him wrong, she tells herself. No point bringing up the question when she’s already gotten an answer. She’ll ask how he managed to get Alphonse back later. When the wounds are years old and it won’t hurt quite as much.

She’ll ask him later.

* * *

She doesn’t get a later.

* * *

Objectively Winry had always known that the Elrics were half Ishvalan, had known that their father wasn’t Amestrian, either. It was hard _ not _ to. The boys were all shades of gold- hair, eyes, skin. Everything about them was precious metal.

Hell, both constantly had to carry their IDs around, military police and soldiers often stopping them because they looked like foreigners. Despite the way they walked and talked, two massive signs that they had both long familiarized themselves with Amestris, people never stopped thinking that they’d come from outside the country.

And that was just with a first look- it didn’t help that there were hints of their mother, too. In the way Al’s eyes were rose gold, the way his hair looked almost white in the right light. In the way his skin was a few shades darker- bordering on bronze instead of the dark gold of Ed’s skin. People caught a glimpse of Al out of the corner of their eye and they almost always thought _ Ishvalan. _

It was why Edward was the one who always did the talking, the one to stand closer and play the perfect Amestrian. There was red in his eyes, stripes of almost white in his hair, but he had perfected the Amestrian accent- had perfected how to speak the language in just the right way that the soldiers always left thinking they were idiots to believe either of the boys shared blood with _ those. _

Objectively she had known. Had known there was a risk there- that Ishvalans were the reason the military had burned the entirety of Resembool to the ground. Had known that if Ed and Al were found out to be even half-Ishvalan they’d be killed.

Had known them being discovered was a very real possibility.

Objectively, objectively, objectively.

It had never really sunk in.

(It sunk in now, hiding in the kitchen and watching through the curtains as six soldiers aimed their guns at Edward as he was forced to kneel before Fuhrer King Bradley, braid fisted in one hand to hold his head back and sword steady in the other as he leveled it at her brother-in-all-but-blood’s throat. _ Pressing _against Ed’s throat- pressing down hard enough that Winry could see that beads of blood were trickling down his neck.

She wanted to scream.

Instead. Instead she fell back- leaned against the wall and stared at the other side of the room, looked away from the window. Anywhere but the window. Pressed her hands over her mouth so she didn’t make a sound.

She felt like a coward. She felt like a fool.)

  


* * *

They don’t kill Ed.

The look in his eye when he comes stumbling back into the kitchen, silver pocket watch clutched in one hand, tells her he wished they had.

He goes to war three days later.

(Izumi looks like she’s going to kill someone, when she watches Ed silently move onto the train. Looks like she wants to tear someone apart- preferably someone wearing a blue uniform.

She doesn’t. Winry almost wishes she did.)

* * *

Ed doesn’t write often- rarely does, really.

That’s alright. Winry didn’t really expect him to. She knows that out there- in Ishval- they’d severed almost all forms of communication for the country. The only types that could get through were letters that were smuggled through to the Ishvalans, the letters that went to the Amestrians, and the occasional shitty phone the Amestrians manage to set up. Ed can’t really communicate easily with her- it wasn’t like before the fire when she could just text him repeatedly or emailed him until he gave up on avoiding responding.

He doesn’t have an easy or convenient way to respond to any letters she sends.

She writes to him frequently, all the same. Never really expects a response.

In the four years that Edward was at war for, he writes a response total of nine times.

The first time, it was only four months after he’s left and he was responding to her news that Al had finally had a lucid moment- it’d only lasted a couple hours but it’d meant he was getting _ better. _

The envelope had been stuffed full, almost tearing itself open with how many pages Ed had filled it with. Almost all of the pages had some form of alchemical doodle on them. Some had signs that they’d been rapidly and shoddily stitched back together- like Ed didn’t even have a second to spare when trying to fix the page.

(Some of them had drops of dried blood. Winry tried not to think about that much. She knew it’d only add more fuel to her nightmares.)

The next eight came similarly.

* * *

Winry goes to Rush Valley for two years, splits her time between her medical studies and learning all there is to be learned about automail, when she meets her first girlfriend.

She’s a pickpocket and a double amputee(her legs are utterly _ fascinating) _and Winry thinks she might be in love after only two meetings.

Her name is Paninya.

* * *

She goes to East City University at age fifteen, at the insistence of Izumi, and meets who will end up being her second.

Paninya is the one to notice her first, on one of her frequent visits since Winry’s settled into her dorm. The girl was living in the dorm across the hall and the only reason she _ had _ noticed her was because of the _ sword _ she was carrying.

Lan Fan, as Winry would later learn, was a Xingese guard for her prince who’d decided to study at the University. She’d joined up to have something to pass the time.

And she was unfairly attractive, as Paninya was quick to note. Winry couldn’t help but agree.

(In the end, the only reason why Lan Fan ended up dating her and Paninya was because of the previously mentioned prince. Ling Yao, in all his flashy glory, had cheerfully brought a red faced Lan Fan to their table and announced “You guys look like you’re fun!” before leaving just as quickly.)

* * *

Her demons still lurk in the corners of her eyes, still stalk her back and watch from the shadows, still _ haunt _her, but-

But.

Paninya and Lan Fan make it bearable. Easier to hold each day.

(Winry can only hope that it lasts.)

* * *

_ Gearhead, _

_ I fucked up. Coming homes less likely than before. _

_ I’m sorry. I love you(tell Al I love him too?) _

_ E. Elric _

* * *

Dread becomes her only companion for a few long months, carving it’s way into her chest, her lips, settling down heavily in her lungs and choking her.

Dread and fear. (Will he die? Is he dead? Will she never see her brother again? Will _ Al? _)

It’s a strangle on her throat and-

And.

It _ hurts. _

(She forces herself to move on, if not for herself then for Al. Edward, she knows, would’ve tried to punch her lights out if she didn’t _ try) _

* * *

Edward comes home with blood dried in his automail joints, under his nails. There’s sand in his hair, ash coating his shoulders, dust painting his cheeks.

He’s seventeen and he collapses to his knees when Izumi opens the door.

His broken apologies crack in her ears. He’s trembling, the automail creaking. His arm hangs at his side as if broken- or as if he’d forgotten it was there.

He flinches when she tries to comfort him, _ hug _ him, _ help _him. Flinches when Izumi reaches out for him.

(Izumi snatches her hand away liked she’d been burned, pain carved into her face, an ache in her eyes.)

Winry’s never wanted to kill anyone more than she’d wanted to kill the Fuhrer at that moment, with Ed hunched in on himself, falling silent and not moving except for the barest tremors of his shoulders.

He looks like he expects to be hit. 

Looks like he’s trying not to brace for it.

Looks like he wants it to hurt.

* * *

(She feels guilty for being so happy while he was suffering.

Even so, at night she still clings to them.

She knew Ed would only be mad at her if she let the guilt spoil the good things she’d found.)

* * *

Alphonse looks like someone just shot a box of kittens in front of him when he sees Ed.

It was understandable- the last time Al remembered seeing Ed was _ years _ ago. Had been _ that night. _Edward might’ve been haunted back then, but now-

Now Ed looked like he’d love nothing more than to burn. He looks older, for all that he hadn’t grown up much. Looked like someone had taken all that light that used to shine in his eyes like the sun and then had drenched it.

He looked nothing like the little kid who had dared to dart around the sky with his baby brother. Looked nothing like the boy who had dared to reach for the sky.

(He looked like a man who had dared to reach for the sun, to graze the waves, and who had had his wings melted off for his arrogance and audacity.)

Winry had almost expected Al to just walk out, to leave to try and wrap his head around it. Or maybe burst into tears, as he stared at his brother. Ed’s face had closed off the moment he’d spotted Al, but he hadn’t changed enough that Winry couldn’t see the ache in his eyes, the longing mixed with guilt and self loathing and a thousand other emotions, all twisted into knots.

(She couldn’t help the small relief that that brought, knowing that the Ed who’d left at thirteen was still there. Even if it was just pieces, it meant that the war hadn’t carved everything out of him. Meant that he could heal, if he only let himself.)

Al did neither of those things, though. Instead he darted forward, before Ed even had a chance to flinch away, and yanked his brother into a bone crushing hug, arms tight around Ed’s shoulders.

_ “I’ve missed you so much Brother.” _

* * *

Winry wondered if Alphonse could read Ed as easily as she could, wondered if he could get anything off Ed using that odd sense their father had taught them how to use.

Wondered if Al could read the self loathing in every line of Ed’s body like she could.

(She had a feeling that the answer was yes.

It terrified her.)

* * *

Ed’s already got his Phd, has somehow worked through years,_ decades _worth of schooling for others in the few hours he had between his next assignment, his next mission.

Winry’s not even surprised. Edward had always been a genius, she can’t even begin to imagine how much work he put in just because he wanted to forget for a little while, to drown out the monsters in his own mind.

(Her favorite part about Ed offhandedly mentioning it during dinner is the look on Lan Fan and Paninya’s faces. It’s priceless.)

* * *

It’s just after dinner when Winry finally gets around to dragging Ed off to check his automail. He might’ve not seemed all that tall but Winry knew it was long past the time for him to have gotten it checked up. 

The heavy limp in his step and the obvious difference in arm length told Winry that Ed had probably not even bothered to have someone look it over. If anyone who knew even a tiny bit about automail had, Ed would’ve been sent back to her- not only to have his arm and leg adjusted but also to have his ports adjusted.

Sighing sharply through her nose, Winry shook her head, turning to look at Ed who sat on the bed in nothing but his boxers, eyes staring blankly ahead like he wasn’t all there. Winry opened her mouth, about to call out to him, when her eyes finally _ looked _at him.

She promptly choked on any and all words that may have left her mouth.

She’d expected scars- Edward had been in the middle of a _ war, _ there’d always been signs in his letters that he’d been injured. Ed was young, it was expected. He might’ve been a genius but others had _ experience. _

She just-

She hadn’t expected the scars she saw.

There were burn scars along the automail ports, lengthening the scars already there from the surgery. Those weren’t too bad- worrying? Yes. A sign that Ed clearly didn’t give a damn about himself? _ Hell. Yes. _ But there were also signs that he’d- or, at least, _ someone- _ had tried to minimize the scarring. For having been in the desert for four years, there was blessedly not even a _ quarter _of what it could be.

(She almost wanted to yell at Edward, try and get it through his thick ass skull that he shouldn’t punish himself _ more _ than what he’d already been given. Wanted to scream and _ shake _ him, wanted to demand ** _why_ ** _ ? Why why why? Why do this to yourself? Wasn’t losing a leg, your arm, your _ ** _self _ ** _ to others enough? _

She bite her tongue, though. None of that would help.)

No, those scars weren’t the ones that made choke, that made her spine go ramrod straight.

It was the ones hidden in those- the ones small enough that one could pass it off as a lucky hit from an enemy.

Pass it off, of course, if there weren’t so many. 

The lines- some white, most of them white, but there was still a mix of red, of not fully healed scars- were hidden in between all the others. They were threaded through the automail scars mostly, that one being the biggest. Quite a few were also hidden in an odd sort of burn scar(that caught her attention for a total of five seconds. The scar _ looked _like a burn scar but it sure as hell wasn’t normal.)

She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep, trembling breath in through her mouth, out her nose. When her eyes opened again Ed was watching her, eyes guarded. He didn’t offer any explanation for the scars, didn’t say anything like _ I didn’t cause them. _

Winry had known he wouldn’t. It didn’t stop the suffocating feeling from getting worse.

She wanted to _ scream, _ wanted to _ sob, _but all she did was step forward, removing the silicone coverings from the automail, and start the checkup. She kept her eyes on the familiar thin burn scar that went up what was left of Ed’s left leg, stopping just before his hip. 

(She’d once thought that Ed was lucky to have lost his left leg instead of his right- his left had already had a bad scar on it from when Edward had ran back into Winry’s house as it burned down. 

Later, she realized it was worse. At least if it was his right he wouldn’t have an excuse to treat it roughly like he did what was left of his left. At least if he’d lost his right maybe his insistence that he deserved it would’ve lessened.)

* * *

Edward limps into the kitchen only a few minutes after Winry. There’s shadows under his eyes, and Winry can see his monsters have sunk their teeth and claws into his mind. Can see it clearly despite the fact that it’s been years since they’ve done this song and dance. Can see it clearly despite the fact that the monsters have grown, changed, multiplied.

He helps her prepare hot chocolate in silence, doesn’t speak a word as he drops a few marshmallows and some cinnamon into hers, honey into his own. Doesn’t say a word as they both sit at the counter and eventually Winry just starts talking. She rambles about school, about her studies and how those are going, rambles about Paninya and Lan Fan and all the others she’s met. Rambles about various friends in her classes, about her teachers.

Ed listens silently, long after they’ve both finished their hot chocolate. Long after they both should’ve at least tried to go back to bed, to get some more sleep.

Ed listens attentively, makes no move to leave. Winry doesn’t either.

She doesn’t know how much time had passed when her voice finally tapers off, hoarse and rough from speaking so much at one time. Ed still doesn’t move to leave, so Winry stays right where she is, playing absently with her empty mug.

It’s when she’s almost going to get up that Ed finally moves.

He makes a sharp gesture with his hand, and starts _ signing _when he sees that he’s got her attention.

_ You asked me, once, if my leg and arm where my tolls. My leg for the transmutation and my arm for Al. _

Winry couldn’t quite stop herself from staring, mind taking a moment to catch up with her eyes. It was a bit rough, what with only having one arm to sign with, and part of it was fingerspelled when he couldn’t make a sign but it looked natural for Ed to talk like that. 

Winry wondered who taught him- if someone taught him. Wondered who Ed would sign frequently enough with so that it looked natural, using it instead of speech.

The moment her mind caught up, though, she jerked her head into a nod, realizing she’d stayed silent a touch too long. The question had never really left her, even when she’d long buried it under the knowledge that she would likely never get the chance to ask again.

Edward watched her for a moment, searching for something. He seemed to find it, because he continued. _ I lied. When I said yes. Though, I’m guessing you already know that. _

The older teen shifted, a bit of nerves finally showing in his eyes. Winry swallowed thickly and nodded again.

_ The first price was in fact my leg, but I paid three other prices before I gave up my arm as the final toll. _

_ The second price was my, _ he jerked a little, looking like he was trying to find the right words, rolling them around in his head. _ Innocence, I suppose you could call it. My sanity, _ ** _me, _ ** _ it depends on what part of it your looking at. I let the gate tear me apart over and over again until it infested my mind and I would never be able to forget even the smallest detail about it. Let my mind soak it up and twist it around and let it seeps into the cracks and make its home there. That was my second price. My mind is mine but it’s the Gate’s now, too. _

_ My mind for Al’s mind- mind for a mind. _

She felt vaguely sick. Ed kept going.

_ My third price was my everything. My body, my flesh and blood, skin and bones. A body for a body. _He pauses in signing to yank down his collar, exposing the skin just under the dip of his collar bones. It takes a moment, but under Winry’s gaze an array slowly starts to crackle there. Lighting up with the Gate’s light, Winry didn’t even bother trying to piece together what the symbols meant. A claim, most likely.

And Winry-

Winry _ ached _ for Ed in that moment. _ Ached _ for the fact that he’s given himself up to the Gate- something that _ terrified _him, she knew- all for Al. All for his little brother. Ached for him in a way she knew he’d never let himself ache. 

He saw it as equivalent, saw it as just another thing he had to pay for his sins.

_ My fourth price was my soul, tethering it to Truth, the Gatekeeper. A soul for a soul. _Ed wouldn’t look at her, his signing becoming a little more sharp. A little more stiff. He didn’t elaborate on what that meant.

_ My fifth and final price was my arm, given up to tie all of Alphonse back together so he wouldn’t just unravel again. I did a shit job at it, as you can probably tell. _

He stopped signing after that, staring hard at the tabletop. Winry couldn’t bring herself to break the silence, couldn’t bring herself to make a sound as she digested all that information.

She’d never understood much about what Izumi and Ed said whenever they talked about the ‘Gate’- their talks were always filled with enough advanced alchemy-jargon that she got lost about thirty seconds in.

What she _ did _ understand about it, though, was that no living being was ever meant to tread there. It was the dead’s domain, _ god’s _ domain, for all none of them believed in gods. To go there and to come back was against all laws that govern one’s body mind and soul. It was why any that _ had _ and _ remembered _ it always came out far worse than they’d gone in. Hell, Al didn’t remember jack shit about it but the impression on his mind that he _ had _had been enough to leave him too uneasy to even touch alchemy. Had left him much more comfortable with alkahestry.

To _ belong _to that…

Winry didn’t know how Ed managed to stay _ sane. _

She swallowed thickly, throat audibly clicking, before she stood up, grabbing both her and Ed’s cups over to the sink.

“You know,” she started as she wet a sponge and started scrubbing at the cups. “I’ve got to go back to the university soon. There’s an opening for a teacher- has been for a while. I’m sure you’d qualify. It would give you something to do.”

She didn’t at Edward, not when she finished up washing the cup and set them by the sink to dry and not when she paused in the kitchen doorway.

“Think about it.”

And then she left.

* * *

At the end of the week, Ed followed her to the university. Al, not feeling like being left out, also followed. Apparently, having heard about the two’s plans, he’d managed to scrape together a scholarship within the week.

Ed _ preens _ when he hears how easy it was for Al to get. Murmurs a soft, “of course, they’d be stupid _ not _ to.” It’s not what he would’ve done before- it’s less, an underreaction in Ed terms- but still. Al _ glows _at the praise from his older brother.

* * *

It’s two weeks after they’ve settled down in East City when Ed finally shows Alphonse and Winry the full extent of what the military did to him.

He drags them to an old abandoned warehouse during the middle of the night, ignoring all their questions, and stops only when they’ve gotten far enough for the bustle of the city to fade.

Winry’s opening her mouth to speak when Ed finally turns to face them. His shoulders are hunched, newly fitted automail hand clenched at his side.

“Don’t hate me,” he tells them, voice soft and eyes burning. “You can be mad, but please… don’t hate me.”

Alphonse frowns, worry creasing his brow. “We’d never hate you, Brother.”

Edward’s smile is twinged with bitterness but before Winry can assure him he drops his coat to the ground and the sound of bones _ cracking. _ Bones _ snapping, _ clothes _ tearing _fills the air. Winry’s mouth goes dry watching as Ed’s body twists, the crackle of Gate’s light sparking around him. His automail flickers away, disappearing along with Edward.

In his place stands… something. Winry hesitates to call it a _ monster _because even with it’s too long limbs, it’s too many teeth in a mouth just a touch too small for them glittering like broken glass. Even with it’s dangerous looking claws, with it’s almost mismatched looking body, there’s still a breathtaking grace to it.

It stands far taller than any of them, with three sets of sweeping wings, black and white and gold. Antlers- or are those horns?- branch out from it’s head, fluffy ears flattened back. Six limbed and covered in both feathers and fur and too many eyes Winry can’t bring herself to call it a _ monster. _

An array glows in it’s throat, seeming to almost spark, before dimming along with the Gate’s light.

Alphonse steps forward, awe in his face. His hand comes up, just barely brushing the fur and feathers there. There’s tension lining it’s- _ Edward’s- _body, but it melts out of him slowly at the face of Alphonse’s amazement.

_ “Chimera,” _ Al breathes almost reverently, more sure of himself as he slides his hand down Ed’s neck this time. “How- It’s _ perfect, _a full transformation, they- you-?”

Edward makes an odd warbling noise a few times, throat clicking, before managing to speak. 

“T-he Ga-ate didn’t want me de-ad ye-t,” he managed, disbelief in his eyes as he stared at his brother. “Gui-ded the trans-mu-ta-tion for the-m. You don’t ha-_ te _m-e?”

“How could we,” Winry asked, voice tinged with a similar disbelief. She finally stepped forward, hand reaching out to brush against the spot where the wings connected. She didn’t understand much about alchemy compared to Ed and Al but she _ did _know that what Ed was was considered impossible by almost all known alchemist.

And it was _ breathtaking. _

Ed made a choking sort of noise in the back of his throat and Winry and Al suddenly found themselves wrapped in a tight and warm hug. Al let out a delighted laugh, eyes bright and sparkling as he hugged Edward back. Winry’s face hurt with how big her smile was.

They stayed there for the rest of the night.

* * *

The uni practically tripped over themselves to have Ed installed as a teacher, as Winry guessed they would.

Ed taught a number of classes, but his biggest was his alchemy class- all his students practically _ loved _him. He was rude and crass and didn’t mince his words and it drew others in like a moth to a flame.

He cared about his students, Winry knew. Could see it in the way he set up his lessons and lectures and how he made sure to do as much as he could to have them all succeed. He didn’t stop his own studies, didn’t even slow down, but he made sure to make room for his classes.

He published paper after paper, poured all his grief and heartache into warnings: don’t follow what he’d done. Don’t make his mistakes. Don’t try and touch the sun, only to burn up and come crashing down into the sea.

He opened his classes to anyone, encouraged students to debate with him when they thought he was wrong. He went out one night, not telling Winry or Alphonse where he was going when he left their shared apartment, and came back looking almost. Lighter. Less weighed down.

There were bandages wrapped around his torso, and Winry almost worried that he’d gone out and gotten into some fights, almost worried that he’d gone out and let himself be hurt. But. 

_ Ishvalans _started joining Ed’s classes.

She doubted that was a coincidence. So, she didn’t worry.

* * *

They begin to move on, begin to heal. Teaching soothes an ache in Ed even he didn’t seem to realize had been there. Learning medicine seems to help Al cope with the years he’s lost. Winry repents for her sins by furthering automail knowledge as much as she can, by becoming a surgeon to help, to heal.

She spends half her breaks in Rush Valley, splits her nights between the apartment she shares with her brothers and the one she shares with her lovers.

They all have their demons, their monsters, but Winry knows that they’re healing. For all that Edward seems to believe he doesn’t deserve it Winry knows he is too.

It’ll take more time, she knows, but they’ll do it.

They’re healing already.

* * *

It’s three years after the war that Edward comes home with a girl wrapped up in his jacket.

His wounds have been torn raw, Winry can tell. There’s blood on his knuckles, under his fingernails.

He doesn’t look like he regrets it.

The girl’s name is Nina and she hides her face against Ed’s chest and Winry thinks she might be crying. Ed’s soft with her, soothing words spilling from his mouth even as he looks like he wants to tear someone apart. Probably whoever caused him to bring her home with him.

He settles onto the couch, finally looking up to meet Winry and Alphonse’s eyes. There’s something dark there, a hunger almost. It’s the same look that he’d had for months after the war, that he got after a particularly horrible nightmare.

The urge to hurt, to _ tear someone apart, _ to _ make _someone hurt.

It’s the look that never fails to remind Winry that, despite all the easy bickering, the almost arrogant way Ed talked, he was a killer. A murderer. And he knew it.

“Nina,” he murmured, soft tone clashing with the look in his eyes. “It’s alright, don’t worry, these are my siblings. They’re good. It’s alright, they won’t hurt you.”

Nina, wimpers, _ whines, _ a muffled stream of _ “Bad, bad, bad,” _ only barely heard. It sounds almost _ animal. _

Winry’s blood runs cold. She could think of a number of reasons for Ed to take home a little girl, for Ed to worry that said little girl might think of them as a threat. None of them were good.

Only one explained why Nina was making noises that sounded _ dog-like. _

From the paleness of Al’s cheeks, Winry knew that he’d come to the same conclusion.

Nina finally looks at them and Winry wants to do what she knew Ed had already had. 

The little girls are a deep brown, sitting oddly on her face- a little too deep in her skull, a little too small. Her nose is off, too, weirdly shaped and only just barely passing as human. Her mouth is open, she’s taking deep breaths, and Winry gets an eyeful of pointy, obviously dog-like teeth. They almost look like they shouldn’t fit. Her jaw looks like it’s been pushed out a bit, the skin stretched over it wrong. Like someone hadn’t exactly known how much should be there.

Nina’s fingers are tipped with claws, her hands looking the slightest bit _ off. _Winry thinks she can see paw pads. Her legs are dog-like, too, like her hips are angled just a touch wrong so if she doesn’t concentrate she’ll be a bit hunched over.

She has a tail. Its white- brown- long and shaggy. It’s practically tucked between her legs.

Winry takes all this in in seconds, smiling despite the nauseating horror that’s threatening to choke her. Nina’s still breathing deeply, and Winry’s relieved that she can’t hear any irregularities in it.

“Th-ey sme-ll n-i-ic-e,” the little girl warbled out, like she was trying to relearn how to speak. She might be. It sounded like how Ed did whenever he tried to speak in his other forms. 

Winry wanted to cry.

“Yeah,” Ed agreed, pressing a kiss to her hair. “They do. Winry’s the one that kinda smells like oil. Alphonse smells like cats. They’re my siblings. They’re the best, and they’ll help me find a good place for you to stay, yeah?”

“Big bro-ther Ed-ward’s sib-lings?” Nina says, and seems to almost smile when Ed nods. Almost because Winry doesn’t think she _ can _smile. Doesn’t think her muscles will move that way anymore.

“Yeah,” Ed repeats, pressing another kiss to her head, running his fingers through her hair. “I’ve got a friend down in Dublith- you remember me telling you about Dublith, yeah? He’s a big push over, though he acts tough. You’ll love him, he’s got a big family. They’re like us, so you’ll fit right in.”

“Li-ke us?” Nina asked, turning back towards Edward, hands patting at his face a bit. Winry can see Al sag out of the corner of her eye when she turns away, smile turning sad. Winry probably looked the same.

“Like us,” Ed says firmly, catching her hands in his own and letting go of his form just a little- just enough for a single pair of wings to snap out and curl around Nina, for his fingers to get their own claws and his teeth to sharpen. Nina gasps a little at it.

“We-re you ba-ad to-_ oo?” _she asks, and Ed shakes his head.

“Your not bad, Nina, your not bad, your so _ so _ good. Don’t believe anything he told you, ok? You’re not bad, _ he _is.”

Nina just shook her head and Winry could feel her heart break for her. Ed’s face crumpled just the slightest bit but he just sighed. Rocking back and forth, he kept his wings wrapped around her tightly. “Sleep,” he murmured to her. “It’s been a rough night. Sleep.”

“Want to pl-a-ay,” the young chimera mumbled back, a bit defiantly. 

“When you wake up. Sleep now, it’s alright. I’ll be here when you wake up. Sleep, you deserve it.”

* * *

When Nina finally falls asleep, chest rising and falling steadily, Edward puts her in his bed and pulls the covers over her, tucking her in. He steps back into the living room and Winry and Alphonse get a front row seat to Ed’s fury.

He paces, hands clenching and unclenching, automail creaking. He’s clearly only just keeping a handle on his form, only just stopping his body from jumping rapidly between molds.

Winry’s only seen him mad- actually honest to god _ mad, _not just irritated- a handful of times. The first time was when Al had just became legal and they’d gone out to the Devil’s Nest for his first taste. Some asshole had slipped something into both her and Al’s drink and Ed had slipped in with words of ice and knives before proceeding to drag the guy outside and beat the shit out of him.

The second had been when someone- Winry hadn’t even got a good look at them- had pressed up against her and made a grab at her when she was heading home late at night. She’d just been about to grab one of her tools to brain the creep when Ed had torn them off spitting fury and dragged them off into an alleyway.

Both times had been only glimpses of it. Now, looking directly at the fire, Winry realized why people immediately hesitated when they looked him in the eye.

“It was her father,” Ed snarled suddenly, face twisted. The skin around Al’s eyes tightened. “A State Alchemist. Fucker used his wife first to get his certification and then wanted to use Nina to keep it. _ Fuck _ his circle was utter _ shit. _ It was all I could do to take control of it and tweak it for the best outcome. _ Fuck, _ goddamn it! _ Shit!” _

“It’s alright, Brother,” Al soothed, looking like he dearly wanted to go over and hug him but didn’t dare. “You did the best you could. What State Alchemist was it?”

Edward didn’t stop pacing, but his shoulders loosened a bit. “His name was _ Shou Tucker,” _ he spat out. “The Sowing Life Alchemist. Fucker combined Nina with the family dog, _ shit. _ I killed him. He _ deserved _ it. Made it look like he treaded too close to human transmutation and it killed him, _ fuck _ should’a _ gutted _‘im.”

“He did deserve it,” Al agreed, though he looked sad. “So are we going to send Nina to go live with Greed?”

Ed finally stopped pacing, relaxing a bit, the fury cooling. “Yeah,” he gave a tight nod, a small almost-smile twisting his lips. “Figured him and his crew would be a better fit for her. Martel’s gonna _ love _‘er.”

“We’ll sort it out in the morning, then. I’ll call Roa before I head to class and Al and I’ll go with to make sure she settles in alright. We need to sleep too, Ed. you like your about to fall over, you little idiot.” He scowls at her, false irritation coloring his face.

“Don’t call me _ little,” _he grumbles, but tellingly lets her and Al lead him into her room. They drag him onto the bed, Al’s arms around his shoulders and her legs tangled with his, and Winry can feel the tension leaking out of him.

* * *

Martel, of course, does in fact love Nina. Dolcetto perks up when she enters the room, looking like a dog wagging his tail. Nina’s seemed to have lost any hesitancy when it comes to new people because she immediately starts bouncing around handing out nicknames.

Greed _ melts _when she bounces up to him, demanding a high five and beaming like the sun.

* * *

It’s a scant few months later that Winry wakes to the sound of breaking glass, of wood creaking. She jerks out of bed, snatching up the hunting knife Ed had insisted she kept hidden in her room and creeping out into the living room. The large windows broken but- 

The shards aren’t going _ in, _ they’re going _ out. _

Winry rushes forward, careful of the glass, and can just manage to glimpse Ed’s retreating figure. He’s twisting rapidly, changing forms faster than Winry had thought possibly whenever another would get him going faster. There’s desperation lining his every move and he’s going _ fast. _

She settles back on her heels, vaguely glad Al was visiting the Curtises for the week. Maybe she can fix the window before he gets back.

* * *

Ed comes back a day later, having apparently called in sick for his classes, with a man slung over his shoulders. He’s spitting curses at said man, insults to his intelligence and character and his plans.

The man’s from the military, a Lieutenant Colonel if his jackets anything to go by, and he just gives her a loopy grin as Ed tosses him onto the couch.

“You _ idiot, _ you find something the military might have it’s fingers in and you research it using _ military channels? _ Why the everloving _ fuck, _ did you _ dumbasses _ think that that was a _ good idea!” _

“I’m Maes Hughes,” the man slures to her, completely ignoring Ed’s increasingly creative rant. “You must be Winry Curtis, Eddy’s sister!”

He sounds delighted. Winry doesn’t question the nickname. Ed keeps spitting curses.

It’s going to be a long night.

* * *

“The military’s run by literal monsters,” Ed tells her bluntly, long after Hughes has passed out on their couch. “Like, actual Homunculi. Monsters. I met Hughes in the last year of the war, when the Order was first issued., along with two others. Told ‘em before I cut off connection to _ not _ look into it because the _ dumbasses _ would end up getting themselves killed. They didn’t listen and, oh, _ look _ I was _ right!” _

He tossed his hands into the air, shooting a glare at the passed out form of Maes Hughes on the couch. Hughes snored. Edward glared harder. 

“Okay,” Winry said, before Ed could go on another rant. “So. Monsters. I’m guessing this is why you ran out in the middle of the night- _ breaking our fucking window, _by the way- because they were going to kill him?”

Ed didn’t seem to care about the window. Winry very much did. Agree to disagree. “They _ did _ kill 'im. I just got there in time to snag his soul before it could go through the gate. Fuckin’ _ idiot _ would’a been _ dead _if I hadn’t had the array.”

He scowled, and Winry decided to save herself the headache and _ not _ask what array he meant. “Who’s ‘they’? The homunculus?”

_ “Yes,” _ Ed stressed, looking at her like she was slow. Which, rude. She’d just wanted to make sure. “Envy. Piece a shit can shapeshift, was the one ta teach me how to fight with my other bodies. I’ma hunt the fucker down later and _ drown _ ‘em. And then see how _ they _ like being _ shot.” _

Morbid. “Monsters. In Amestris. Running Amestris. I need hot chocolate. With alcohol.” Ed snorted. The asshole.

* * *

A few weeks after Ed’s sent Lieutenant Colonel Hughes off to somewhere unknown, a man who greets her as _ Roy. Fucking. Mustang. _Knocks on her door asking for Ed.

She stares at the Flame Alchemist for a total of fifteen seconds, till she can see him shifting uncomfortably, before steps aside and opens the door wider. It’s a clear invitation and the man takes it, albeit a bit hesitant. Good. If he’s a monster it might be easier to kill him.

“Ed won’t be home for another half hour,” She tells him as she leads him to the living room. Al catches sight of the guest and is already up to get some water from the kitchen. Edward had filled him in when he got back, so Winry can also guess he’s gearing himself up so as to not be caught unarmed.

“That’s alright,” Mustang says smoothly, smiling politely. “I can wait. Though, if you don’t mind me asking, where is he?”

Winry carefully doesn’t let her eyes narrow. “Classes. He teaches at the uni.”

Mustang nods, accepting the cup of water Al hands him when he returns, and starts up some polite small talk. Everything about him is polite, in the same way everything about him screams _ city boy! _It sets Winry a bit on edge. In Resembool and in Dublith people were polite with curses and knowing everyone in the area. East City, Winry knows, is a lot different. The way Mustang is acting isn’t at all unusual for having grown up in the city. But. Still.

Ed comes back forty minutes later, quieter than he normally would. He had clearly sensed the man before he’d entered. 

“Hey Colonal Fuckface,” He greeted cheerfully, ignoring Al’s exasperated sigh. Both of the younger adults relax a bit at the clear familiarity in Ed’s greeting.

“Edward,” Mustang responds back easily, his smile more real. “I didn’t know you were in the city until I tried to find you, would it have killed you to stop by and say hello once in a while?”

“It might’ve,” Ed’s got a shiteating grin on his face when he plops down onto the couch opposite to Mustang, dropping his bag to the floor. “You know me, maybe I’da caught your stick up your ass. Hear that’s fatal.”

Mustang snorts, clearly amused and not at all offended, but sobers quickly. “Listen, Ed, I don’t know if you’ve heard yet but…”

“Hughes is dead,” Ed nods, smile slipping from his face. He’s serious now. “Or, well, he _ would _be.”

Mustang stiffens, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You guys really think I’d leave you in a monster infested military without any sort of precaution? Shit, Flame, do you really think so low of me?”

Mustang seems to almost _ flail, _face going stoney. “Monsters? Ed, what are you talking about?”

“Homunculi,” Edward tells him, just as blunt as he was with Winry and Al. “Artificial people. There’s seven of the fuckers, eight if you count their creator, and they run the military. Except Greed. He’s with us. So yeah, seven fuckers that run the military. Shit, they _ founded _the country.”

Mustang looks like he’s questioning Ed’s sanity. Fair. Winry had done that many times before. His eyes flicker to her and Al and Winry just tilts her head.

“And you know this how…?”

“Flame,” Ed says sharply. _ “Mustang. _Who the fuck do you think had enough resources to get so many animals to stuff into me? I spent four months with those fuckers. They spilled to me first cause they thought it’d kill me and then ‘cause they thought I wouldn’t tell. Thought they had enough leverage to stop me from tellin’.”

Mustang’s face was steadily getting paler, clearly believing Ed. He pressed his head into his hands, dragged one through his hair. 

“So,” he said, “Maes isn’t dead?” There’s so much _ hope _in his voice that it feels wrong for Winry to have heard it.

Ed’s face softened. “No,” he agreed. “I got there just in time. Soul hadn’t crossed over yet. He’s up North right now. Briggs. Cashin’ in on a favor owed to me.”

“You didn’t tell me.” The words should be an accusation. They’re not. They’re just _ tired. _

“I knew you’d come,” Ed says. “I had to let you grieve so they wouldn’t ask questions. Had to make it seem real.”

Mustang pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. Winry stood up with Al, nodding to Ed.

They left. The conversation wasn’t one to be overheard, now.

* * *

_ “Will you help me? I could use another alchemist. Another ally. Another friend.” _

_ “...” _

_ “Please?” _

_ “You’re askin’ a monster ta _ ** _heal _ ** _ Mustang.” _

_ “You’re as much a monster as I am. I’m confident in my chances of surviving you.” _

_ “Fuck. Fine. This country’s rotten. I was plannin’ on helpin’ a bit anyway.” _

_ “Thank you.” _

_ “Fuck off.” _

* * *

Winry almost wants to beg Mustang not to take Ed. Wants to beg him to not drag her brother into another war. She wants to, _ god _ she _ aches _to. But-

Ed leaves one night, during one of the breaks they all get from school during the year. He warns them that he might not come home for a week or two and Winry braces herself.

Braces herself for the look in his eyes. For the blood under his nails and in his hair. Braces herself for restless nights and trying to keep his pieces together.

But.

Ed comes back a week and a half later, just like he’d warned, and his eyes are _ bright. _

“One down,” He tells her, later that night. “Five more to go.”

There’s still blood under his nails, still in his hair. He’s injured, too, bruises and cuts he’s clearly already healed as best he could. But the same _ look _ he’d gotten in his eye after the war wasn’t there. There was no hunger or hatred, no urge to _ tear, _ to make someone _ hurt. _

Instead, there’s a drive. A burning fire that gets brighter every day.

Winry wants to beg Mustang not to bring Edward to war with him, but she doesn’t. It’s good for Ed, she can tell.

* * *

Edward disappears frequently, comes home injured and bloody more often than not.

Winry should probably worry. She doesn’t

There’s a fire in his eyes. He doesn’t fall behind on any of his work- substitutes lectures with online classes. He’s still got the highest success rate out of the entire school.

He’s only twenty one and already he’s got four Phds, has learned how to speak six languages and how to read three times that many, how to write twice as many. It’s terrifying.

She doesn’t worry.

* * *

Ling and Lan Fan and Mei get mixed up into it. Winry _ worries. _

* * *

Lan Fan loses her arm, cut off at the shoulder like Ed’s. Winry gets dragged out into a cabin in the woods to help treat her.

She has to step back more than a few times, tilting her head back to keep the tears from spilling out of her eyes and into the sterile area. To keep Lan Fan from seeing them.

(Her girlfriend sees them anyway, Winry knows. She can tell but the ache in her eyes when she looks at her after finally regaining her composure.

It _ hurts. _She wishes she was the one who lost the arm. This wasn’t Lan Fan’s country. She shouldn’t pay the prices for their monsters.)

* * *

It’s sometime late at night when Winry goes outside of the little cabin in the woods and sits out on the steps. She’s managed to clean the blood off her hands but she can still feel it there. She’d thought she understood why she sometimes found Ed in the kitchen late at night scrubbing his hands raw before. Had thought it was similar to how she felt when she wasn’t quick enough to save a patient and their blood was on her hands.

She was wrong. She thinks it’s like what she feels now.

Someone sits down heavily next to her, blowing a long sigh out of their mouth. She doesn’t have to look at him to know who it is- Ed’s come home smelling like woodsmoke and ashes often enough it’s not hard to identify.

“Everyone else is asleep,” Mustang says, head tipped back to stare at the stars. There’s an unasked question there, _ why aren’t you? _Winry doesn’t want to answer.

“The array,” She says instead. “On the back of your gloves. It’s the same one that shows up on Ed’s throat whenever he changes bodies.” _ Did you put it there? _

Mustang’s lips press into a tight line. “It’s a mark of claim. The Fuhrer put it there, when he gave me Fullmetal. The chimera, Fullmetal. I’d thought Ed had gone home, when they gave him to me. The arrays carved into a piece of metal that’s in his neck. We don’t know how it doesn’t kill him when he changes and we don’t know how to get it out.”

His face is dark, angry. Winry believes him. She didn’t think her brother would be so loyal to someone who’d branded him but it never hurt to make sure.

“So,” She swallows, hopes Mustang can’t see that she’s close to throwing up at the thought that her brother’s got metal in his neck. He probably can. “Why even risk putting it there? They could’ve just burned it into his neck. Be more fitting.”

Mustang was silent for a minute, and Winry thought he wouldn’t answer. Finally, right when she’s about to get up and head back inside to try and get some more rest, he speaks.

“I think they wanted him to be able to breath fire. One of his forms- it’s what I suppose one could only call a _ dragon. _I don’t think he likes it much. It’s a bunch of reptiles threaded together, was a chimera before they even forced it on him. It’s incredible.”

With that said, he stands up and heads inside. Winry rocks back on her heels, contamplates following, but-

There’s a red eyed dog watching her.

* * *

Envy finds them, seems to realize they all know. They sick Gluttony on them, run to go and tell their master. Ed goes running after them. Winry can see the rage boiling under her brother’s skin.

She follows.

(It’s a mistake.)

* * *

Winry presses a hand to her mouth, fingers trembling. It’s not terror for herself that has her shaking.

Ed _ roars _at the monster in front of him. Half twisted, half shifted, Winry thinks he looks like an angel. All shades of gold.

It’s a terrifying sight. Envy’s scarier.

They mimic Ed. At least, Winry thinks they are. It’s hard to tell. Envy took Ed and twisted his imagery, took all the gace and replaced it with teeth and claws and sharp edges.

It’s horrifying. Winry tries not to scream at the sight of it.

Edward _ laughs. _

He lunges, all teeth and claws, dangerous edges and murderous intent, mimics Envy right back. Winry first doesn’t think he stands a chance.

Envy _ screams. _

“You humans are so pathetic!” They howl, Ed on top and snarling. “Always so predictable,” They taunt. “I killed him wearing his wife’s face, did you know? It was so funny! So pathetic! He couldn’t even throw the knife with me pointing a gun at him!”

Ed _ growled, _ clearly only getting more furious. Envy kept talking, which, in Winry’s opinion, was a stupid move. “You’re all the same! I wear his face and you won’t even touch me! Can’t even think of attacking your commanding officer!”

Edward, in direct defiance of the humunculi’s words, leaned down and tore Envy’s throat out.

“I think I’m going to enjoy this,” Ed barks at Envy, a sick sort of glee in his voice.

Winry keeps her hand pressed against her mouth.

(She thinks she realizes now why when one searches up _ Fullmetal _on the internet you find ghost stories and horror tales. She thinks she’s going to be sick.

This is what the military forced her brother into. She wants to tear them apart.)

* * *

Mustang finds them hours later, long after Ed’s managed to kill Envy enough times for them to stay dead. Edward’s pacing around the clearing his fight had created, switching between forms rapidly as he stepped over shattered trees and torn up grass and bushes.

“Fullmetal,” Mustang’s voice is cold and hard when he says it. It’s a clear order. Hawkeye has a gun pointed at Ed’s head. Winry can’t help but think that that’s a smart move. _ “Heel.” _

Ed goes stiff, body finally settling on a tawny-gold wolf. Winry doesn’t expect him to follow the order- almost expects him to blow up at it, really. Mustang’s talking to him like he’s a _ dog. _Winry wouldn’t be surprised if Edward chewed on the man’s leg for that.

Edward doesn’t do anything like she thought he would, though. Instead he stands stock still, staring at Mustang. His lips are lifted up in the slightest snarl, but Mustang doesn’t seem the slightest bit worried.

He sighs and leans down, holding out a hand. “Come here Fullmetal. There’s blood in your fur.”

All the tension seems to drain from Edward when he does so, going boneless when he presses his head to the hand. Mustang doesn’t seem the slightest bit put off by the drying blood crusted in the chimera’s fur. He takes off his coat a wraps Ed up in it, picking him up like he weighed nothing.

Hawkeye comes over to her, and Winry doesn’t know the other woman very well but she thinks she can see something _ sad _in her eyes.

“It was smart to not go near,” She tells Winry. Winry can’t quite stop her face from twisting up.

“He looked scared. I should’ve helped.”

“Yes,” Hawkeye agreed, “He was scared. But he was also trapped in his own mind.” She helps Winry up, and now that she’s so close Winry can make out blood on her uniform.”If you had tried to go near he would have thought you were an enemy. He would’ve attacked you. Possibly killed you. It was a good thing for you to stay away.”

Winry sighed, unease curling in her stomach. Not for herself, no, and maybe that made her stupid but…

If Ed had hurt her and managed to snap out of it, covered in her blood- how would he react? Winry could see the struggle Ed went through everyday trying to keep going with the blood of his own kin- people he shared a race with but people he’d never known- staining his soul. She couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be if Ed hurt her or killed her.

She followed Hawkeye back to the car.

* * *

Winry puts a hold on her studies to move to Rush Valley full time so she can help Lan Fan through automail surgery and recovery. Al, she knows, stays in East city. He keeps watch there and, if his letters are anything to go by, is slowly gaining members for their coup. He’s starting with the Ishvalans.

Edward moves to Central with Team Mustang, crashing at Hawkeye’s or Mustangs or Hughes instead of getting his own place. Winry’s not surprised- he clearly trusts them. Anyone that gains Ed’s trust tends to also lose any right to personal space from him.

From the resigned but fond tone Hawkeye speaks of it when the older woman calls Winry, they all already knew it and didn’t mind it in the slightest.

They’ll take care of Ed. Winry breathes easier and focuses on her second family.

* * *

It’s a year later that she gets the call.

_ They need doctors, _ Alphonse tells her. _ We’re going to war. Will you lead them? _

Will you lead them?

* * *

Winry leaves the next day. Lan Fan’s already gone to protect her prince- Winry’s not a fighter, she doesn’t kill.

She should have no place in this war her brothers are fighting. But-

Her parents were healers, and they healed indiscriminately. They died for it, Winry knows.

She’ll be like them, will follow in their footsteps. But she’ll also be better.

Her brothers need her. She won’t die.

* * *

It’s staring up the towering beast, fighting in the sky, that Winry finally realizes what Mustang meant when he called Edward’s other form _ incredible. _

He’s high above Central Command, there’s flames lapping at his heels. His scales are white- black- gold- sand, all mixing together to make a beast only seen in fairytales. He’s got feathers, too- along his spine, his wings, shrouding his head in oranges and greys.

It’s breathtaking. Winry can’t understand how someone can believe they could beat him.

Envy, a new Envy- his master, Father, had created another after Lust, Gluttony, and Envy all died- clearly doesn’t have the experience to match up. They’re trying to mimic the monster they helped create but.

It’s wrong. Envy doesn’t stand a chance. Ed’s already locked on them. The two go crashing down and the tremors it causes finally knock Winry out of her trance.

There’s more wounded soldiers to tend to. Her jobs not done yet.

* * *

They win, like Winry always knew they would. Maes and Gracia are in charge of a radio broadcast that leaves even the biggest sceptics believing the truth- that Amestris has been built on blood, on broken bodies of children. That Amestris was built for monsters but the ones fighting them want it to be built for the people.

Roy Mustang is almost immediately placed on a pedestal by the people, advancing his position to Fuhrer within weeks. His first action in the seat is to spread the power around- to make it so other Generals, the ones he trusts, have just as much power as he does. It’ll take time, but he’s already working to give the people the power to choose, already working on dismantling the government piece by piece while simultaneously rebuilding it.

Ed comes and goes, teaching at the University still but also sharing bodyguard duties with Hawkeye. He's- _ somehow- _ managed to keep all his students in the dark about his part to play in what many have dubbed the ‘Promised Day’. Even the Ishvalans don’t realize that the ‘Edward Elric’ that helped Team Mustang is their teacher ‘Edward Curtis’.

The country starts to calm down. Life goes on. They all still have to heal in many ways, have so much further to go, but-

It’s nice. They’ve got time.

They’ll get there.

* * *

She marries Paninya and Lan Fan in spring, in the evening when the stars have just started to come out. She can’t stop grinning the entire time.

It wasn’t meant to be a big thing- few in Amestris are really supportive of poly relationships, for all they don’t care about same sex relationships. They also, Winry knows, don’t support cross race relationships.

So, it was meant to be small. But, apparently, Ed and Al somehow adopted her into the Elric family, making her Ishvalan. Which, _ apparently, _means that all the Ishvalans in the city have to come.

She laughs when she comes into the building to find it completely packed, can’t really help herself. The Ishvalans cheer, all bright faces. A man who had once called himself _ Scar, _the man who had killed her parents, walks with her right next to her brothers when she moves towards the little fountain with paper ships in the water. He hands her the burning stick for her light them.

New beginnings, she knows it means, an Ishvalan marriage tradition.

She only cries a little that night, regardless of what Ed says.

She loves her family.

* * *

Edward is Icarus, Winry knows, is the boy with wax wings who never heeded others warnings. He flew too close to the sea and salt clogged his feathers. He flew too low and crashed into the icy, unforgiving waves.

He’s Icarus, yes, but he’s survived. Her brother is strong.

They all survived. A fire brought them down but it also is their new beginning.

He is Icarus, he fell, but he got up, spit the blood out of his mouth, and kept going.

One foot after another.

They heal.

**Author's Note:**

> I sorta want to cry now that I've gotten done editing the formatting so it works for this,,,
> 
> so I've got plans for two other parts- one with Ed and one with Al as the pov but idk if I'll ever get to those. I might. any suggestions for pairings in those??? I'm pretty sure with ed's part I might go for Roy/Riza/Ed and Al's part Al/Mei but idk.
> 
> anyway! thanks for reading this!!! I'm going to go crawl into a hole to go into a coma now!!


End file.
